I haven't been able to take a bath in almost a year. No, there is nothing wrong with me. The problem was our water. Our filtration system had been sputtering and finally gave up. This left us the problem of stinky (that nasty sulfur fart smell), brownish (rust), hard (yes, the softener quit too) water. There was no enticement to take a bath.
A week ago, we had the entire system and softener replaced. After a stressful week and a day of yard work, I decided it was time to take an inaugural dip in the tub.
I expected a warm soak; what I got was a flood.
As the water ran, I gathered up the tools of relaxation: bubbles, phone with speaker, and incense. As the water ran, I lit the incense while the water foamed. I found the Meditation station on Pandora and lowered myself into the tub.
The first song to play was "Canon in D." For most people, this is recognizable as a processional at weddings. As cliche as it maybe, I, too, had hoped that my daughter would enter the church to this song.
Without going into detail (mostly because I'm not ready to talk about it), this has been a year of dashed dreams. I've had to learn that some dreams have to die, even if you don't want them to, and while grieving over them is natural and expected, it doesn't make it any less difficult. The old dreams are supposed to be replaced by new, but I'm still in the grieving process.
And so, I rolled to my side, allowed the dreams to tumble and dissipate, and started to cry.
"Canon in D" was followed by "Expression" by Helen Jane Long and then by "Arwen's Vigil" by The Piano Guys, and then by "Life and Death " by Paul Cardell. It was a tough set.
The driving rhythms of *"Expression" reflect my desperate pursuit of "normal." Just keep moving, ride the emotions, but keep moving. "Arwen's Vigil" is the tender underside of the emotions - that which has never seen the light of day. No one knows and will never know. These are mine alone - vulnerable, secret, and thick with pain. Originally, "Life and Death" first debuted on the popular TV series, Lost. Indeed, the song fit the show - so much loss. What once was is never to be again. The gravity of that reality is sometimes more than one can bear. There is a tenderness in the melody, as memories are bittersweet. There is a reminder of the past joy mingled with present grief.
My tears mingled with the water all around me. Each song, all of it. So true. So pure. So real. So hard.
So where does it end? I don't know. It's not done yet, and I don't see an end game in the distance.
I know that at some point, there will be an end.
It is said that water symbolizes purification. Baptism is a cleansing, a rebirth. That said, in my mind's eye, I am sitting on a rock on one side of a quiet stream. The day is warm, there is a breeze. I am alone but comfortable. I am not afraid.
Across the stream, He is there. He approaches the edge. There is only feet between us. He smiles first then extends His hand. My smile reflects His. I feel inexpressible joy as I stand and reach my hand to His.
No, I'm not dying. But there are parts of me that are. I know that it will be over when I'm ready to let it go. When I finally surrender my fears, sadness, regret, guilt, disappointment, embarrassment, anger, and control, it will be over, and more importantly, it will begin.
*I included the links to the songs in case you wanted to hear them too.
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